Friday, March 30, 2012

What March 30th Means To Me: Being A Writer Sucks

At the risk of sounding whiny, I'm going to keep this as honest as possible.

I have a message for the US Military:

I've never been waterboarded, but if I could recommend a humane torture for "terrorists," I'd say lock them in a room with a typewriter, and put them through the writing process.

I'll be the first to admit that writing, for me, is not just a hobby. Yes, I love to write. I love writing books, I love writing scripts, I love writing texts and emails, and I love writing this blog. But I do have greater hopes for my writing beyond entertaining myself and my friends, therefore I feel constant pressure to both think of good ideas and to execute them. This doesn't sound like such a big deal, and it shouldn't be, right? After all, how hard is it to write? We've all been writing book reports and greeting card messages since we were in elementary school. Hell, we all tell stories everyday! That tale you told me about flipping the bird to the guy who cut you off this morning on the way to work? High-larious! So, if it's so easy, why is the writing process the reason I'm miserable 97% of the time?

Here's a quick rundown of what it's like to be a writer:

1) You Get An Idea - It's a great idea. Sure, it's only a kernel of what it'll become, but it blooms in your head quicker than wildfire. Soon, tons of thoughts, quotes, and characters populate your imagination in a mishmash of something that probably resembles spin-art in your brain. It's a rush. It's euphoric. It's GENIUS, you think. So amazing that you start planning the rest of your life with the knowledge that you have your golden ticket. And then you are like this...

for the rest of the day. Until...

2. It's Time To Write - After you let the idea germinate for a while, you finally sit down to start your masterpiece. But just as you place yourself in front of your computer, staring at a blank screen with that fucking blinking cursor, your apartment suddenly feels a little too dirty. So, of course, you have to clean it. A good, deep cleaning. Then, once done with that, you're probably tired and you need some coffee. Drive to the Starbucks? Why do something silly like drive, when it takes six times as long to walk? Hell, it's nice out, right? In fact, it's so nice out, skip the Starbucks down the block, and stroll to the one a few miles away. And once you've secured your coffee and have walked home, you, of course, need to relax for a bit before you get started with your creative masterpiece, so you check your TiVo: "oooh, House Hunters International in Croatia? Well, I need to watch that just in case I'm ever in the market for Eastern European property!" So, once you watch that, then take a nap (of course), you finally write. And it's a beautiful three or so hours of straight writing. You're nailing it. You're on top of the world. That is, until you review your work.

Because it sucks. And then....

Because your life is over. All your dreams are shattered because your story, as always, was better in your head. But you keep working at it because you're a slave to your own misery, have nothing better to do, and have tied any possible future happiness to your writing. You drag yourself through the highs and lows. You find creative ways of taking breaks. You commit your life to it. You write write write, you edit edit edit until....

3) You're Finally Done! - Yes, it was a struggle. An epic struggle. Blood, sweat, and tears ... and tears and tears and TEARS. But you've worked countless hours, sacrificed all your social time, and now, you finally have a finished product you think is great. Congrats, right? Well, maybe. Now, you're confident, and you can't wait to show it to friends and family for feedback. Of course, they also think it's wonderful because you wrote it, and most friends aren't willing to give damning criticism because, well, they are your friends. So, with all the confidence in the world, you're ready to...

4) Submit Your Work! - Agents, publishers, production companies, whoever. And you're convinced that once one of these entities agrees to read it, they will do so in a timely fashion, call you a genius, and throw loads of money at you. "This is so good," they'll say. "We were going to give you a million for it, but why not two! Hell, lets give you three! That's how much joy you've given us with your words." But, of course, it doesn't take them three days to read, or even three weeks, if you're lucky, it takes three months.

Now, all my career, I've heard this piece of advice regarding rejection: "Don't take it personally." In fact, I've probably dispensed it myself. But here's the honest truth: You HAVE to take it personally. How else should it be taken? There is NOTHING more personal than writing. Every word you write, every character you create, every story you concoct is part of you. It's made up of your life experiences, your hopes and dreams, your darkest secrets, and everything else that makes you you. It's complete exposure. So when you get a dismissive rejection letter or phone call with some bullshit "I think I'm just not the right person to champion your project, but good luck" response, it hurts. It should hurt. How can it not hurt? Because you spent eleventy billion hours baring your soul on the page, and while you know the reader will never care as much as you, you still feel that its been carelessly dismissed. If that doesn't hurt, then your writing probably isn't very good. And if it doesn't make you a little...

Anyway, the other cliche in the creative business is "it only takes one person to like it." In Hollywood, that's not exactly true, but that's another conversation. Which brings us to...

4) Someone wants your work and is willing to pay actual money for it.

It's the best feeling in the world. No doubt. Suddenly, your story storms through town, talent wants to do your script, people want to read your novel, whatever. Compliments are heaped upon you, your self-esteem is sky high. Then, of course, after the effusive praise is given, the inevitable question is uttered: "So, is there going to be a sequel? What are you working on now?" I've never had huge success, so I'm not sure what it feels like to have written something so popular that you never have to work again...but...

A buddy of mine recently sold his novel (and the movie rights. woo!). In fact, they enjoyed the story so much, they've commissioned him to write a second novel on the same subject. When I asked him about it, he said (paraphrasing): "It's a rush of complete euphoria ... followed quickly by deep dread after I realized I have to come up with another novel."

And then you repeat some version of the process above.

See? I guess it never stops.

Sure, it could be worse, but I have a feeling that anyone who has ever written anything can understand.